


Not Your Kind of People

by seabook



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22561966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seabook/pseuds/seabook
Summary: Short piece of work from an unnamed sci-fi story. A lost old man goes looting. From 2017.





	Not Your Kind of People

The red sands met a clear blue sky, the horizon a wavering line of mountains and canyons. A gentle wind stirred dust into the air. James walked through the massacre in the Valley. He squinted his good eye at a few of the uniforms - they were the 4th Ra'Shagan Empire Regiment. Four active battalions on Desjara. Though after this incident, they would be down to three. They lay like rag dolls, their blood barely visible against paprika-coloured earth.

The news of this massacre was shockingly prosaic to James when he heard about it. Stalking among the bodies of the Desjarian army, he felt nothing as a soldier, even one who was previously scorned by the same military. He scanned the bodies for a certain corpse. In literature, revenge is taken by the one who was wronged, after a lengthy soliloquy, and with dramatic flair. Instead, the Empire had done the job for him - killing a swath of soldiers who were tried for crimes against the Empire itself.

Whether they were actually guilty or not was anyone's guess. He'd never know now. James couldn't predict the actions of the Empire anymore. He couldn't predict a lot anymore. He stalked among the bodies like a scavenging animal, kneeling occasionally to examine them in interest. Even while in service, James never learned how to revel in his true surroundings or really get to learn about the people who were near him.

All he had now were memories, which were gradually fading with his age.

He knelt beside one of the soldiers, having found the one he was looking for.

The body had contorted his face in one last scream of horror and pain, mouth and eyes wide open. His fatigues were already gathering sand, splattered with blood and shredded with bullet holes.

James checked his dog tags.

_Felix J. Martino_

_458-343-3422_

_A Pos_

_Catholic_

He silently turned tags over to see the Empire's insignia. He had no idea that his son was religious.


End file.
